


The Last Light Laughs Lamest

by Luthen



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bad Jokes, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2407037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthen/pseuds/Luthen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all have our faults, and in Jack’s opinion Jamie's worst is his unfortunate habit of telling the corniest jokes ever. Five times Jamie tortured Jack with his humour, and one time the tables turned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Light Laughs Lamest

### 1\. On the Matter of Winter Guardian Transport

“How does Jack Frost get to work?”

Said Guardian looked bemusedly at the ten year old bouncing before him. This was hardly the first time Jack had visited Jamie since Easter. It wasn’t even the first time they’d seen each other after summer. But it was the first time he’d been greeted with a random question.

“I fly. On the Wind, remember?”

Jamie stopped bouncing on the balls of his feet and kicked some snow in frustration. Surprise, surprise, Burgess had received an early snowfall, long before Halloween. Pristine white had covered the town. Providing bountiful ammo for the kids’ snowball wars. Though, right now it was just them two in Jamie’s backyard.

“It’s a joke, stupid. I ask the question and you ask me the answer.”

“Ooooh,” Jack drawled in mock realisation, “Jack thought we could only talk about Jack in the third person.”

Jamie gave him a deadpan look and repeated, “How does Jack Frost get to work?”

“See third person!” Seeing the flat look become a glare, Jack corrected himself, “How does Jack Frost get to work, Jamie?”

“Bicycle.”

Jamie broke into giggles. Jack frowned. How did Jack Frost plus bicycles equal funny? Jamie couldn’t know Jack had totalled the bike he, uh, borrowed to teach himself to ride with. Or that bikes weren’t aerodynamic enough for Wind to recreate that scene from ET. In response to Jack’s confusion, Jamie started to repeat himself between bouts of laughter.

“Bicycle. Bysickle. Bah-ai-sickle. _By icicle_.”

Jack stared at his first believer incredulously, and wheezed before joining in the laughter, “That’s _terrible_.”

### 2\. On the Issue of Adult Priorities

Jamie had been the luckiest boy in the world. He had a magical best friend slash older brother who in his opinion could do just about anything. He had shared his best friend with his other friends, but they all knew he was the Favourite.

Now he was fifteen and people thought he should put away childish things. Jamie couldn’t do that, and didn’t see why he needed to. He was perfectly capable of being a “young adult” while still being a big kid.

All this landed Jamie a weird reputation. He was a class clown – yet near top of the class. He was fun to be with – yet never a party animal. Not in the “in crowd” – just coming and going from it. Occasionally there’d be an attempt at bullying him, but well: 1) Jamie’s priorities were askew from most teenagers – reputation hardly mattered to him, 2) he had no problem defending himself or others, and 3) they had _nothing_ on Pitch Black.

 The nearest thing he had to a berserk button was people maligning stories and the Guardians. He saw what it did to Jack each time another friend’s eyes slipped over him. He refused to do that. Jack was his Favourite too. So he refused to silently allow slights on his friends.

Still, Jamie liked the moments he got alone with Jack, as the winter spirit followed him home, the best. Plus, Jack was the only one who fell in the small overlap of groups that understood all his jokes _but_ didn’t punch him for them.

This early Fall evening, weeks before even Jack could make snow fall, Jamie was simply enjoying walking with his favourite friend. But well, he’d found a couple of new jokes since Jack’s last visit. It would be a shame to waste them.

“I figured out why adults aren’t impressed with your ice and snow,” Jamie said, carefully pitching his tone between banal observation and friendly teasing. Jack took insults against his element/weather very personally. And adults were a tricky topic too.

“Oh, really now?” Jack countered with an air of polite, yet uninvested, interest.

“Problem is,” Jamie began, “is that they think it’s all just skid stuff.”

As always there was a moment of silence, while Jack turned over the joke in his head, wringing all the levels of terribleness out of it.

“Eh, six out of ten.”

Recently Jack had decided as the Guardian of Fun, he really should be protecting the world of humour from Jamie’s bad jokes.

“Okay, what about this? How do you keep from getting cold feet?”

Jack narrowed his eyes, “How?”

“You should stop going around,” and here Jamie mimed huddling for warmth, “brr-footed.”

He took off running before Jack threw a snowball.

### 3\. On the Subject of Boreal Weather

Jack breathed in his favourite scent of Jamie, and tried to infuse himself with as much of his boyfriend’s warmth as he could. Just like anyone leaving their home hearth for the cold, dark night.

Stupid Guardian responsibilities taking him away from his first believer.

Jamie pushed away Jack’s unhappy musings by kissing him again. Jack’s sense of joy – both of his and Jamie’s – buoyed at the quiet intimacy.

“You’re going to be late.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

“You have to, otherwise Bunny will start policing how much time you spend with me,” reasoned Jamie, “ _again_.”

Jack didn’t respond verbally. Just kind of whined. Bunny burrowing into Jamie’s bedroom was not an incident to be repeated. Jack slipped out of Jamie’s hold and pulled his hoodie on. He made sure to steal one last kiss before heading for Jamie’s bedroom window.

“Do you think you’ll need an umbrella when you visit North?”

Jack paused, halfway out the window. He knew that voice, that was Jamie’s I’m-telling-a-terrible-joke voice. His first believer _had_ to know how bad his jokes were, but he still got upset if Jack refused to play along. Not wanting to leave on an off-note, Jack heaved a sigh.

“Why would I need an umbrella?”

“Because of the rain, dear.”

Jack’s response as he jumped onto the Wind was perfectly mature. In that, such a hand gesture had no place on children’s television.

### 4\. On the Perils of an Icy Throne

“I am Jamie Bennett, and I see a whole army of my fellow Burgessers, here in defiance of tyranny!”

His “army” consisted of about thirty kids all under eleven, and the tyranny was Jack’s undefeated snowball war record. Jamie was determined that today, that would end. And if he needed to pool every one of Jack’s believers (and then some), well he’d do just that.

Jack was politely standing at the other end of the field being a pantomime villain. And magicking up some fortifications for both sides.

“You have come to fight as eager men. And eager you are! What will you do without that enthusiasm? Will you fight?”

“Us kids against Jack? No! We run, and live!” one older kids shouted – Jamie thought he might have been a frequent first casualty, and was impressed the kid actually knew the speech he was bastardising.

“Yes!” Jamie bellowed back, “Fight and you may fall. Run and you will live at least awhile. And dying in your high schools many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance? Just one chance, to come back here as young kids and tell our oppressor that he may take our lives but he will never take our fun times!

“Charge!”

Then it became a mess. Even before the charge was halfway across the battlefield (park) the kids had splintered and were throwing snowballs at each other. Jamie despaired, how was Jack meant to get a taste of his own medicine now?

The “war” continued for a while longer. Jamie dodged anything that came at him – he was the second most experienced on the field after all – but didn’t throw much himself. He was after a bigger target.

Eventually the kids wore themselves down, or ended up trapped behind various snow forts. Leaving Jamie and Jack alone of the field.

Jack was reclining on a snow throne, mocking him.

“What do you get sitting on the ice for too long?” Jamie taunted.

“What?” drawled Jack, slouching even more ridiculously.

“Polaroids.”

Jamie took the small opening while Jack considered the joke to charge and throw a snowball from each hand. Jack batted on away with his staff but was hit in the face by the second. He then pressed his advantage scooping up another armful of snow and dumping it on Jack as he spluttered.

However, Jamie forgot about slowing down, so he crashed into Jack. And the impact crumbled the winter guardian’s throne. Leaving Jamie to bowl Jack over and land on top of him.

“Not bad, eight and a half. Though I totally let you get me with that snowball.”

“Sure you did.”

### 5\. On the Effects of Snowman Bedding

Jack didn’t often get the chance to wake up like this. Gently, floating to awareness like spring being revealed by the warming sun. Okay that wasn’t true. During his three hundred lonely years, dawn had woken him in a snow drift plenty of times.

But in a soft bed wrapped around and by a warm body. That was unusual. Jack wasn’t a love ‘em and leave ‘em type – it had only ever been Jamie for him. It was just an unfortunate side effect of his global, all time zones, never finished job: he’d get to go to sleep with Jamie, but rarely was he not woken by the knowledge of his handiwork needed somewhere.

Jamie didn’t hold it against him. Jack knew that. No, it just made them both treasure these mornings the more.

“Go t’ slee’. Think’n too much.”

Right, the other reason being that Jamie liked a good eight hours (unlike Jack who didn’t really _need_ to sleep), which he wasn’t going to get unless he slept till noon. Last night had been lots of fun.

“I’ll stop, promise,” lied Jack.

Now that he was awake he was going to enjoy just lying with his boyfriend. It took maybe an hour later for the sunlight to travel across the bed and irritated Jamie’s eyes. The brunet squirmed and rolled over, hiding his face in Jack’s armpit.

“How do you know there’s been a snowman in your bed?” came a muffled enquiry.

“Good morning to you too,” Jack retorted. Jamie would stop with the bad jokes eventually right?

“Yeah, yeah, love you. Now guess.”

Jack mused for a moment. Less on Jamie’s question and more on the chances of sleepy morning wake up sex.

“I don’t know.”

“You wake up wet.”

Jack waited for Jamie to finish the joke. That wasn’t funny – even the amateur comedian wasn’t laughing. He understood the joke, but even for Jamie it was pretty weak. Plus, Jack didn’t feel like polluting the peaceful silence with criticism.

Jamie crawling up him to kiss him and nibble on his ear suggested he’d moved on, too.

“…and sticky,” whispered Jamie before he collapsed into laughter.

“Jamie!” gasped Jack, “You are the absolute worse!”

Nevertheless Jamie got with the program and Jack was soon gasping for a much better reason.

### +1. Concerning Who Might be at the Door

“Knock, knock.”

Jamie’s pen stilled mid-word. Perhaps this seven page essay on the implications of racism and sexism in the folklore of the American frontier was getting to him. That couldn’t be Jack asking permission to enter his room, rather than just barging in. And why would he _say_ knock, knock?

Well, Jamie’s train of thought was out of coal anyway, so he spun his chair to face the winter spirit. Who was perched on the window sill even.

Jamie quirked an eyebrow, _what are you doing?_

Jack just grinned a smug, mischievous, way – situation normal really – and repeated himself, “Knock, knock.”

Jamie shrugged (is this what Jack had had to put up with from him? Maybe he deserved those couple of snow baths) and huffed, “Who’s there?”

“Icy.”

“Icy who?”

“Icy a big pretty boy”

Jamie was torn between embarrassment for his boyfriend’s corny joke and extra embarrassment that a compliment still made him blush. However in the world of Jack Frost it wouldn’t do to concede defeat. Better to return fire:

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Al.”

“Al who?”

“Al give ya a kiss if you come over here,” Jamie promised with a little beckoning wave.

After Jamie had made good on his offer, Jack whispered without moving any further away than absolutely necessary, “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” Jamie merely asked.

Chastising Jack that this wasn’t the time would be hypocritical. And effectively be surrendering his position their long standing argument about the quality of his humour. Perhaps he might just quietly stop making terrible jokes at times like this.

“Grrrrr,” Jack growled, or perhaps purred, as he nibbled on Jamie’s neck.

“Grrrr, who?” Jamie managed.

“Are you a bear or an owl?”

Well, that killed the mood. Definitely not doing this to Jack again. Unless he deserves semi-cruel and unusual punishment for something. For now, Jamie just pushed Jack off him and onto the bed.

“Knock, knock,” Jamie challenged, _you’ve made your point, but like I’m going to let you beat me at my own game._

“Who’s there?”

“Ken.”

“Ken who?”

“Ken we take this outside? It’s nice and cold.”

Jamie was kind of stating the obvious, Jack was in town and it wasn’t high summer. Of course it would be a pleasantly brisk day – by Jamie’s standards at least.

Jack nodded and grinned widely, but didn’t answer directly. Instead asking: “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Snow.”

“Snow, who?” _Really there’s snow outside, no shit._

“Snow skating today,” Jack warned, “the ice is too thin.”

Jamie nodded. Jack never let his pond ice anywhere in the danger zone of not being as strong as it looked. If it wasn’t cold enough for the ice to say strong, he kept it from freezing merely halfway.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Alaska.”

“Alaska who?”

“Alaska my mom if I can come out and play.”

Jack laughed as he hopped to the window and rolled back out of it. They’d meet up outside. Easier than having to pause to leave doors open from his “invisible” friend.

Jamie avoided following Jack. He’d been in so much trouble when he had taken The Express Route. Instead he took the stairs, and told his mom he was heading outside. Via knock, knock joke of course. Jack would be listening in, and Jamie couldn’t break the unspoken rules of their little contest.

Jack got the first words in when the met up outside.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Olive.”

“Olive who?”

“I love you, too.”

Collapsing onto your boyfriend, not-quite laughing was probably not the appropriate response to such a declaration. But Jamie really couldn’t manage anything else.

“Four out of ten for the joke,” Jamie got out between hiccups of laughter, “Ten for the sentiment.”


End file.
